


i can't give it up

by Kaslyna



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/pseuds/Kaslyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Full decontamination of a virus usually involves the destruction of clothes and a thorough shower when one has been fighting someone waving around a syringe of said virus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can't give it up

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :D This is my first foray into Person of Interest, and the Root/Shaw fandom. :) Title is from Infinity by The XX, the song that was playing in the bar when Root was crashing Shaw's "date". I hope I did them justice, I've been writing for 3 hours and it's now 3:30 AM. Enjoy!

“Full decontamination, this could take all night,” Root said as she angled her face to gauge Shaw’s reaction, smiling involuntarily. To her surprise, and immense delight, Shaw couldn’t stop herself from grinning a bit too, eyes flicking to Root’s face so briefly that Root wasn’t entirely sure it had happened.

 

“So, you started a fire, destroyed a charity to help children get tablets,” Shaw glanced at Root again, but this time for a little longer, watching as the smile washed away from Root’s face, her expression settling into something almost sorrowful.

 

“A necessary evil,” Root sighed, “Though Harold doesn’t seem to agree.”

 

Shaw nodded, “He’ll come around.”

 

“Maybe,” Root agreed, before smirking again, eyeing up Shaw, “I don’t really want to make small talk, Sameen, and I don’t think you particularly want to, either.”

 

“No,” Shaw admitted, shaking her head a little, “I don’t.”

 

“You never do,” Root teases, but there’s only amusement, no bitterness to be found, and Shaw can’t help the small smile that quirks at the corners of her mouth at Root’s words. It’s honest, a statement of fact and an acceptance of that fact rather than a criticism, as simple as if Root had said the sky was blue.

 

“So,” Shaw attempts to steer the conversation away from unnecessary small talk (small talk she isn’t sure why she brought up and won’t examine her reasons for doing so), “How are we gonna do this decontamination?”

 

“Well,” Root’s smile widens, “Destroying the virus should be fairly easy once we’ve neutralized it. But then there’s still the matter that our perp was waving a syringe full of it around you.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “What do you propose we do about that? It’s not likely he got the virus anywhere.”

 

“Still,” Root pouted a little, but Shaw could see she was pleased with herself, “You were fighting him at the same time. It says in Harold’s instructions you should probably get rid of your clothes and take a thorough shower, just to be completely safe.”

 

Shaw smirked, but there was an edge to it, “I’d bet you’d just _love_ to help me with that, wouldn’t you?”

 

“I wouldn’t be _opposed_ to the idea,” Root grinned, predatory as she roamed her eyes across Shaw’s body again, almost lazy in the slowness of her gaze, “Just to make sure you’ve been completely decontaminated.”

 

“Hm,” Shaw nods again, “The virus needs to be destroyed first.”

 

Root pouts a little, but she feels inordinately pleased that Shaw hadn’t responded negatively to her comment. She hadn’t responded positively either, but Root would take what she could get with Shaw. It’s a nice night out, not too cold for mid-November in Manhattan, and the subway isn’t far enough away that they need to steal a car to get there. There’s no more talking, but there needn’t be; there’s an undercurrent of tension, closer to the surface than it’s been in a while. Even that night in the safe house, when they’d run out of things to say or do and ended up in bed, sex more like combat, there hadn’t been this sort of tension, this sort of… Root almost dared to call it promise, promise that this night would be fun, would be a reprieve from Shaw’s cover and Root’s ever-changing identities.

 

It’s promise, almost, that she’s not alone. She quashes that fleeting thought before it can make her feel choked with any sort of emotion for Shaw. Because she knows Shaw cares, in her own way, but whatever the hell this is, it isn’t a thing. Shaw had made it very clear she didn’t do more than one night after the CIA safe house and Root’s subsequent imprisonment, and even though this will be the third time it’s happened, it’s still not a thing. (She does remember fondly, though, that night Samaritan came online and everything went to hell, a quick fuck in the backseat of the car before they’d gone their separate ways; and in the past months, though their encounters have been fewer, Root feels like she’s closer to Shaw than ever before; she remembers two weeks ago, three weeks after the election, when she’d been in the cave the same time as Shaw and Shaw had pulled her into a hug; it had been awkward, suffocating, but it had been Shaw’s way of letting Root know that she wasn’t alone and that Shaw was glad she hadn’t died. They didn’t talk about it then, and Root won’t ever bring it up again, but it had touched her, because she knows Shaw is a woman of action, and this action had spoken louder than any meaningless words could have.)

 

They arrive in the subway without incident, and get to work destroying the virus. Root does most of the work with Shaw sitting at Harold’s desk, watching Root occasionally. Any time Root’s eyes meet hers, Shaw looks away, and it becomes a game of cat and mouse, of push and pull.

 

“Well,” Root turns away from whatever the hell she’d been doing (Shaw will never admit to the fact that she’d paid more attention to Root than Root’s actions, not even under the greatest duress), “The virus will be neutralized in the next six hours or so, and then comes the fun part of actually destroying it. It’s time for you to decontaminate, Sameen.”

 

Shaw rolls her eyes again, “Food first, Root. I haven’t eaten in nearly five hours.”

 

Root pouts, voice simpering and too sweet, her amusement at Shaw’s grumpiness shining through, “We’ll find something then. I’m sure there’s a place on the shadow map that’s half decent.”

 

Root goes to look that up, and within a few minutes, they’re off, Root chattering about a hole-in-the-wall pub. It’s definitely a seedy place, but it’s on the shadow map, and the place itself hasn’t had a technological update in the last twenty years or so, so surveillance equipment is unlikely.

 

The place is as seedy as suspected; they’re two of maybe six female patrons, and most everyone is at the bar, not tables. They don’t talk while they eat; Root is busy studying Shaw, amused with the way she devours her food, and Shaw herself is focused on her meal. Root eats, but when she’s done and Shaw is eyeing her half-full plate, Root smirks and pushes it towards her. Shaw doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even smile, but there’s something almost soft in her expression, as much of a thank you as Root will ever hope to get.

 

Once the food is eaten and the bill is paid by Shaw (who just rolls her eyes and mutters about Root being akin to a stray dog), they leave. Shaw’s apartment is too far away in the rapidly dropping temperatures, and they can’t risk a taxi. Root easily procures a vehicle, and Shaw can’t help the slight smirk. Shaw drives, of course, dumping the car five blocks away from her place, wiping down prints as best she can.

 

The walk up to Shaw’s apartment is quiet, but the tension crackles like electricity, and it takes all of Root’s restraint not to jump her the minute they’re through the door. Shaw locks the door behind Root, and looks at her, frowning slightly because Root looks awkward and almost out of place here. This apartment isn’t as bare as the last, it wouldn’t fit with Sam the makeup girl’s supposed persona, but it’s still pretty spartan; more modern than minimalist, though.

 

“I’m gonna go take that shower,” Shaw announces, as if trying to convince herself. It’s an offer, and Root can’t help her smile at it because she knows even this is more than Shaw is usually willing to give her. Shaw goes to the kitchen then, finding and taking a trash bag for her clothes, before heading towards the bathroom.

 

Root follows Shaw to her bathroom, shedding her clothes as she goes. The jacket lands in the living room, the shirt in the hall, and her bra follows once they’re in the small bathroom. Shaw doesn’t look; she’s heard the rustle of fabric, and could more than easily force Root out of her space, but she doesn’t. She simply turns the shower on, stripping naked quickly, shoving her clothes into the trash bag from earlier. She ties it off and dumps it in the corner. Shaw had even put her ponytail holder in there, much to Root’s amusement.

 

Root waits until Shaw’s in the shower, deciding to poke around a bit because Shaw really _does_ need to shower to decontaminate, and Root knows the minute she’s joined her, all thoughts about cleaning go out the proverbial window. She can feel Shaw’s eyes boring holes into her back though, and decides not to dig through her drawers. She does go through the medicine cabinet though, just to annoy her. It’s been maybe three minutes and her resolve to let Shaw _actually_ decontaminate is wavering.

 

Stripping out of her shoes, socks, pants, and underwear takes less than a minute. Shaw is looking away from Root now, but Root can see that she’s glancing at her out of her peripheral vision, and can’t help the smirk when Shaw surrenders, turning to eye Root up and down.

 

“Like anything you see, Sameen?” Root asks, smirking and practically purring. Shaw scowls a bit, but it looks more like she’s sexually frustrated than actually annoyed, and Root feels accomplished.

 

“Shut the hell up,” Shaw growls, and Root’s smirk broadens because Shaw is not verbal, Shaw doesn’t talk much because that would make this a thing when it’s not. Shaw apparently decides Root is taking too long, and opens the shower’s door, gripping Root’s arm and tugging, fingernails digging into her skin.

 

Root lets out a small gasp as she’s pushed forcibly against the wall. The shower is tiny, too small for two people, but she definitely doesn’t mind the feel of Shaw’s slick body pinning her against the cool tile. Root’s still grinning, and Shaw just sighs because this was inevitable, wasn’t it? The moment she’d smiled at Root’s crack about full decontamination taking all night was the moment she’d agreed to have sex with her.

 

Shaw pushes her lips against Root’s. Root’s smile stays intact until Shaw bites her lower lip, causing a moan to fall from Root’s lips and the smile to drop in favor of trying to bite Shaw back. Shaw doesn’t let her, her own tongue swiping across Root’s lip, tasting copper from the blood that had pooled there.

 

Shaw yanks on Root’s hair to bring her face closer so she doesn’t have to stand on her tiptoes as much, and Root responds by scratching at Shaw’s back, clawing like she’s trying to burrow into Shaw’s skin. Their kiss becomes a hazy back and forth of tongues and teeth and the sounds Root makes but Shaw refuses to, limbs flailing a bit as Root tries to find where to settle her hands and Shaw tries to make her stop moving so much.

 

Shaw pulls herself away from Root’s lips in favor of biting and sucking along her jaw and then down her neck. Both of them are breathing unevenly, but Root is gasping and moaning whenever Shaw finds a sweet spot. Shaw is sure the noises are exaggerated just to annoy her, but she’ll find a way to punish Root for it later.

 

Shaw bites hard on Root’s shoulder, resting her face there for a bit because it’s heady and almost addictive, how turned on Root makes her. She feels almost like the emotions she’s never been able to feel are screaming so hard that she can’t separate them, annoyance and arousal winning out. She’s glad, though; she can handle those emotions more than the knot that forms in her chest each time she knows Root is in danger.

 

“Shaw,” Root’s voice is breathier than usual, a warning and a question in one. It spurs something in Shaw, who doesn’t look at her as she continues her descent down Root’s body, biting and licking as she goes, until Root is squirming between her and the shower wall, the noises she makes genuine now.

 

Shaw is mildly perturbed by the ease in which she kneels before Root, taking one of Root’s legs and resting it on her shoulder. Above her, Root swallows, saying nothing. They both know Shaw doesn’t have to do this; of the two other times, Root has gone down on her once, the second time in the car, but Shaw has never done this to Root. She doesn’t go down on her partners, period. It isn’t that she doesn’t like the act of going down on someone; in fact, she gets off on the power that comes with it, but the times she’s tried with casual bedmates, they’ve all taken it as a sign of intimacy. Root won’t, though; Shaw knows that Root won’t make this a thing, just like she hadn’t mentioned the awkward bone-crushing hug Shaw had forced on her a couple weeks back.

 

Shaw doesn’t tease, not like Root does, and it translates to how they act in bed. Where Root will take her sweet time, getting herself worked up over a slow and torturous foreplay before she goes in for the kill, Shaw goes all in, preferring to get off quick, no mess, no fuss, and certainly no attachments. She doesn’t let herself think about the fact that this will be the third time she’s ended up having sex with Root in the past year. Instead she runs a finger along Root’s labia, hearing her hiss and feeling the way Root buries her hands in Shaw’s hair, trying to tug her closer. Shaw swats at her hand, a warning not to try to take control, and Root complies, too worked up to risk Shaw leaving her high and dry.

 

Shaw rewards her acquiescence by parting Root’s labia with her fingers, leaning in and swiping her tongue up her slit, fast, and there’s a bit of friction but not much; Root is wetter than she’s ever been when Shaw has fucked her, and Shaw doesn’t like to consider the reasons why.

 

Shaw doesn’t glance up at Root once, and when Root’s hands inevitably fist in her hair again, she ignores them in favor of continuing what she’s doing. She darts her tongue out to swirl around Root’s clit, letting her teeth scrape the little nub before she licks again. It causes Root’s legs to buckle, the one resting on Shaw’s shoulder digging into her back harder.

 

Shaw focuses on Root’s clit for a bit longer, but she can tell by the tension building in Root’s body that she needs more. Shaw moves, dipping her tongue into Root’s entrance, setting a rhythm. Root is squirming to the point of almost dislodging her, so Shaw moves one arm to settle across Root’s stomach, a gentle but firm pressure; a warning to stop moving before Shaw pulls away.

 

That works for a few minutes, Root’s breathing speeding up, the noises she makes increasing in frequency, her body so tense that Shaw knows when she snaps, it’ll hit her hard. Shaw moves her focus back to Root’s clit before she moves her arm from Root’s stomach, inserting two fingers roughly into Root’s body at the same moment she sucks on her clit. Root cries out, arching towards Shaw, and the hand that Shaw is resting on her hip digs into her skin hard enough to bruise in response.

 

The movement of Shaw’s fingers curling inside of her combined with Shaw’s tongue and teeth on her clit sends Root over the edge, crying out Shaw’s name until her voice is hoarse and wavering. Shaw continues to move her fingers and lick at her until Root’s orgasm has faded. Then she pulls away, causing Root to gasp a little, and Shaw moves to stand, staring up at Root’s face. Root is grinning, a wide, dopey grin that soon settles into a lustful smirk when Root’s regained enough brainpower to maintain some semblance of composure.

 

Root kisses her, becoming more insistent once she tastes herself on Shaw’s tongue. She wraps her arms around Shaw before she spins, pushing Shaw against the wall, breaking the kiss at the force of the movement. Root doesn’t bother kissing Shaw’s lips again, moving to suck on Shaw’s earlobe. Shaw’s fingernails dig into Root, one at her shoulder, the other on her ass, effectively pulling her closer. Root just hums, smirking a little at Shaw’s impatience, but she says nothing.

 

Root moves down Shaw’s neck, nipping and licking, eventually biting hard enough at Shaw’s clavicle to leave a mark, especially once she sucks at the wound. She moves to Shaw’s breasts next, teasing her by taking one nipple in her mouth, sucking and biting while she pinches the other between thumb and forefinger. Root releases Shaw’s breast, switching to lavish the same attention in reverse. She kisses lower then, swirling her tongue around and then in Shaw’s belly button, unable to stop the smirk that breaks across her face when Shaw hisses and squirms a bit.

 

Root stands then, making the decision to use just her fingers as opposed to her mouth and fingers, wanting to watch Shaw while she does this. She rests her eyes on Shaw’s face as she teases her slit with her hand. She doesn’t want to tease too much, not right now, but that doesn’t mean she won’t make this last.

 

Root flicks at Shaw’s clit before she pinches it, watching as Shaw swallows. Shaw’s eyes are open, focused on Root as best she can, a silent battle of wills. Root bestows attention to Shaw’s clit before she moves her hand lower, circling Shaw’s entrance with her fingertips. Then she’s pushing three fingers into Shaw, not bothering with being gentle. Root twists her hand, curling her fingers and brushing her thumb against Shaw’s clit, watching as Shaw’s eyes slam shut and her mouth parts a little. It’s how she knows Shaw is close; the look on her face is still guarded, but she can’t control the spasms of pleasure that flicker across it.

 

Root enters a dreamlike state, the only thing she is able to see being the look on Shaw’s face as Shaw rides Root’s hand. Shaw had gotten herself worked up going down on Root, the power of being able to bring Root to screaming out her orgasm turning her on more than she’d ever care to admit. Therefore, it doesn’t take long for Shaw, the intensity in which Root is watching her and fucking her bringing her to the edge. She comes expelling a silent breath as she usually does, but Root can see Shaw’s body relax, legs going to jelly, and she’s pleased with herself for drawing out this reaction in someone so stoic.

 

Root pulls her hand out of Shaw’s body, smirking at her as she licks her fingers clean. They take a moment in the shower to compose themselves and clean themselves, and then Shaw reaches to turn the shower off, brushing past Root as she exits. Shaw leaves the bathroom, not bothering to find something to change into. Root has followed her into her bedroom, and when Shaw turns to look at her she sees wariness in Root’s eyes, averting her own eyes to look at a worn spot on her dresser.

 

“If you cuddle me, I’ll shoot you,” Shaw warns gruffly, and out of the corner of her eye sees relief flood Root’s face, followed quickly by a smile, more genuine than Root’s usual lustful smirk.

 

“Not a problem, Sameen,” Root assures.

 

It’s awkward, to say the least. Shaw doesn’t do sleepovers; when she picks someone up, it’s at their place, so she can leave on her own terms. Trust issues and all that. True to her word, Root settles on her side facing Shaw, but doesn’t touch her. Root is asleep within minutes, breathing evening out, and something unpleasant settles in Shaw’s chest at the realization that Root has probably been living in hotel rooms and abandoned buildings in the months since Samaritan came online. She doesn’t like the way it makes it almost hard to swallow, and so Shaw turns away from Root to try to sleep.

 

When Shaw wakes up seven hours later, Root is gone. There’s no note; that’d make this too real, but Shaw knows by the mere fact that she’d overslept that Root had gone to destroy the virus, and was probably long gone until she decided to pop up again. Shaw feels anger, but it’s almost desperate, tinged with annoyance and that uncomfortable lump that clogs Shaw’s chest whenever she thinks about Root, especially Root being alone.

 

She doesn’t dwell on it, instead getting up and getting ready for the day. Today is another day off, thanks to Shaw being able to coerce another girl to take her shift, and Shaw is sure there’s something she can be doing elsewhere, perhaps in the subway, for the Machine and the team. After all, they are at war.

**Author's Note:**

> I have not written in two months, and never for Root and Shaw, so I'm really hoping it was semi-coherent and in character. :)


End file.
